


Clarity

by pippinmctaggart



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Schmoop, writing on hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-03-04
Updated: 2004-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-29 08:47:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3889990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pippinmctaggart/pseuds/pippinmctaggart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dom gets a bit angsty, and starts writing on hands, and Billy reassures him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clarity

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Elmathelas and Reveritas for the top notch beta jobs, any good stuff in here is thanks to you.

"Billy?"

Billy looked over the tops of his reading glasses. "Yeah?"

"I want to talk to you."

Billy waited, but Dom didn't continue. He laid his book aside, automatically smoothing the pages with two fingers so as not to wrinkle them, and looked at his watch. "I still have to do the washing up. Come to the kitchen with me, and we'll talk while I clean."

Dom fidgeted. "No."

Billy frowned, his forehead creasing. "What do you mean, no? What's wrong?"

"Nothing…"

Dom had been quiet recently, more introspective than usual, but not to an extent that Billy would classify as 'upset', and he didn't seem particularly perturbed now. Billy decided to tease him. "Oh God, don't tell me you want to talk about us again. That's such a girl thing, Dom."

"No!" He turned a shade pink, a smile turning up one corner of his mouth despite his best efforts. "I want--I want to do something different. Call it a game, if you like."

Billy removed his glasses, laid them on the small lamp table. "What kind of game? It doesn't involve me being tied to anything, does it? 'Cos I told you after last time--"

Dom finally grinned. "No. But I still say you didn't give that a very convincing effort."

"No, and I'm not likely to either, so can you please wipe that smile off your face? I tried to tell you it wasn't my thing. What's the game?"

"I want to talk to you."

Billy just looked at him. "So you keep saying. You're not doing a stellar job so far."

"I think this we can do this. It'll be good. Do you trust me?"

"You know I do," he replied evenly.

Dom bounded to his feet, suddenly all pulsing energy, repressed anxiety, nervous intensity, and Billy got the feeling Dom had been working up to this for some time. "Okay, come with me."

"Where?"

"Kitchen. C'mon!"

Billy let himself be pulled to his feet, dragged to the kitchen.

There was a chipped mug with pens, pencils, and Popsicle sticks sitting on the counter. Dom slid it towards Billy and said, "Pick a pen."

Billy raised an eyebrow, a little confused, but did as he was bid, choosing a plain blue ballpoint pen. He held it out to Dom, who took it.

"Okay, now sit at the table."

Once again, Billy did as he was asked without comment.

"But I'll need to sit on your lap."

Billy pushed his chair back from the table to make room. "Are you going to tell me what we're doing, here?"

"It's easier to show you." Dom sat down on Billy's thighs. "Okay like this?"

"For a while."

"Lemme know. Hands on the table."

"Afraid I'm going to grab you?" he asked wryly as he laid his palms on the deep blond wood.

"Palms up."

Billy turned his hands over. His fingers curled in, relaxed. "I can't see anything, Dom, you're in the way."

"You're not supposed to. Close your eyes."

"Why? I just told you I can't see anything."

"It'll help. Now close your eyes," Dom insisted.

Billy released a tiny sigh, and closed his eyes.

"Ready?"

"Yes, Dom." Willing patience incarnate.

Dom uncurled the fingers of Billy's left hand, laying them flat. Did the same to the right.

Billy jumped as the cold hard tip of the ballpoint pen tickled the center of his right palm. He instinctively tried to jerk his hand away, but Dom was holding it in place. "What are you doing?" he demanded. "You're going to get ink all over my hand!"

"So? It'll wash off, don't be such a prat. Now pay attention. Can you tell what word I'm writing?" Dom scribbled the word _trust_ across Billy's palm.

Billy squirmed a little at the still-ticklish sensation. Without thinking, Dom pressed himself down into Billy's lap, making Billy growl, "Do _that_ again and I think we'll be playing a different game entirely."

"Sorry. C'mon, Bill, I have to do this. Could you tell what I wrote?"

"No, it was too fast." Billy wondered at 'I have to do this'. "Try it again."

"Are your eyes closed?" Dom asked suspiciously. He fancied he could hear a set of eyelashes quickly land on cheeks.

"Yes."

"That's better." He wrote TRUST in capitals this time, slower.

"Not sure. Do it one letter at a time."

T-R-U-S-T

"Trust?" Billy asked immediately.

Dom nodded, satisfied. "Yes. Good. How about this one?"

B-I-L-L-Y

"Me."

D-O-M-I-N-I-C

"Serious you."

"What do you mean 'serious' me?" Dom asked curiously.

"You only use Dominic when you're being serious. Contracts, cheques, letters to your Mum. And love letters."

Dom smiled and said nothing. It was true, he just didn't know Billy had spotted it.

G-L-A-S-G-O-W

"Home."

L-A

"What? Oh--Los Angeles. Viggo, Liv, Orli, Sean. Other than that, hell."

N-E-W-Y-O-R-K

"King Kong."

C-U-N-T

Billy laughed. "Same to you. It was too obvious! Elijah, of course."

S-E-A-N

"Which one?"

B

"Fucker stole my Glasgow Rangers jersey. I'm going to spray paint 'Sheffield Girls' Squad' on his autographed team photo."

Dom snorted.

I-A-N

"Going to see his play next month, aren't we? What's with the roll call? Is this what you wanted to talk about?"

F-R-I-E-N-D-S

"Yes, every last one of them."

M-A-T-E-S

"Yes, Dom, they are."

H-O-W-L-O-N-G

"That's up to you, Dominic," Billy said quietly, finally seeing where Dom had been headed. "You never call them, do you?"

O-N-L-Y-B-U-L-L-S-H-I-T

"On the phone?"

Y

"Talk to them more often and it wouldn't be. What do you expect when you only call them twice a year, if that? There's only so much intimacy you can achieve on a press tour."

L-O-

He stopped, leaving the tip of the pen pressed into a crease on Billy's palm. Resting.

"Finish it, Dominic," Billy said softly.

-N-E-L-Y

"Here?" Billy was surprised. And yet…he wasn't.

S-O-M-E-T-I-M-E-S

"Even when I'm here?"

N-E-V-E-R

"Don't press so hard. I'm sorry we're apart so much. I hate it too, you know that, right?"

Y

"Good. Listen, can't we dispense with the writing and actually talk?"

N-O

"Why not?"

C-O-M-M-U-N-I-C-A-T-E

"I missed the last part. Communicate?"

Y

"I don't understand, Dominic."

N-E-E-D-T-O-

Dom left the pen resting in Billy's hand.

-K-N-O-W-

Rest.

-Y-O-U-H-E-A-R-

-N-E-E-D-T-O-K-N-O-W-

Rest.

-I-M-C-L-E-A-R

Billy smiled. "Not only am I giving you my undivided attention for a change, and not only are you being crystal clear for once, but you're even rhyming. That's impressive."

Dom huffed, but put his left hand palm down over Billy's, as he continued to write on the other one.

P-R-O-J-E-C-T

"Like what? Time filler? Are you sure--"

W-O-R-K-D-A-M-M-I-T

"Oh. Well, I keep telling you, get your arse into the theatre. You'd be fucking fantastic. And it'd keep you sharp while you look through all those film scripts you keep turning down."

Dom rubbed his palm over Billy's.

H-E-L-P

"With what? Auditions?"

Y

"Don't be an idiot, of course. Just like you do for me. God, I can't believe you think you have to ask." Billy rested his forehead against the middle of Dom's back, his eyes still closed. "Just…go for it. For fuck's sake, you're the impetuous one, usually you have to give _my_ arse a kick."

B-I-L-L

"Yeah, Dominic?"

F-E-E-L-

Rest.

-S-H-I-T-E

"Why?" Billy tightened his arms against Dom's sides.

T-O-D-A-Y-F-E-E-L

Rest.

-U-S-E-L-E-S-S-W-A-N-K-E-R

"Dominic Monaghan, may I tell you a story?"

Y

"Two weeks ago I came home. Do you remember?"

W-E-D-N-E-S-D-A-Y

"Tuesday. Tuesday evening at half six. I came home tired, filthy, lugging dirty socks behind me from here to L.A., and I was testy as a pissed-on badger. Do you remember what you did?"

L-A-U-N-D-R-Y

"Yes, and what else?"

O-R-D-E-R-E-D

"And?"

Dom hesitated.

?

"You put me in the shower," Billy said quietly, "ordered dinner--my favourite, don't think I didn't notice--took care of my laundry, unpacked the rest of my shite, fed me, let me watch the telly to unwind, and then gave me the most gentle fucking I've ever had in my life. You saved me, Dominic. I was ready to quit, to say the hell with them all, to curl up in a corner and scratch at anyone who came near. And you saw that the second I came in, and you put your hand on me with the word love written on the back, and you soothed me."

Dom put the tip of the pen on Billy's palm, but Billy snapped his fist closed around it.

"It's hard to interrupt when I've got your tongue, isn't it?" he smiled. "Please, let me finish. Don't you ever, _ever_ call yourself useless again, Monaghan, or I swear I will fucking clock you one. You might be bored, you might be at loose ends, you might be lonely--but I can't bloody function without you. Got that?" He released the pen, laid his hand flat again. Dom pressed the tip down against his flesh.

Rest.

Rest.

"Once more, Dominic, just to make sure _I'm_ being clear enough. I rely on you to help me, to push me, to stand by my side. _I cannot cope without you._ Do you understand me?"

Rest.

Y

"Good. And I'm sorry I've never said that before." He kissed Dom's back through his t-shirt.

Dom started writing, almost too quick for Billy to follow. He got the idea, though.

TRUST

TALK

THANKYOU

LOVE

LOVE

L-O-V-E

"Love you too. You know that. Now get up, you're a heavy bastard and I can't feel my legs."

Dom gave a tiny breath of a laugh, leaned forward and lifted his weight off Billy, who slid out from underneath him. Dom sat on the warmed seat.

Billy put his left hand on top of Dom's head. Bent down to kiss his temple. "You were right, that was a good way for us to talk, Dominic. Thank you."

"Next time you get the pen."

"But it worked so well this way--"

Dom grinned. "Next time you get the pen."

Billy bumped him with his hip, then wandered out of the kitchen. A moment later he stuck his head back around the corner. "By the way, I'm going to have a shower. I think it will take a lot of scrubbing and soaking, and soap, and lather, and hard fast rubbing to get the ink off." He grinned, wiggled his eyebrows at Dom, and left.

Dom sat there for a minute, shaking his head and smiling. He got up, ran a little water in the sink before Billy began his shower, and started on the dishes. After hearing the water running in the bathroom next door to the kitchen, it startled him when two arms wrapped themselves around his waist and a soft voice in his ear said, "Leave the dishes. It's my turn, I'll do them."

Dom turned within the arms, lifting soapy hands above Billy's bare shoulders. "That's another way to get the ink off your hand."

"I like my way better. Will you join me?" Billy reached out and kissed him lightly, softly.

"I _suppose_ I could do that."

"Very nice. Very loving, that is," Billy teased. He let go of Dom, kissed him again without touching him anywhere but the lips. "You'll go get undressed, then come in, yeah?"

"Yeah, I'll be right there." Dom smiled.

"Good. Don't touch the dishes." He left again, and Dom heard the bathroom door open and close.

He passed it on his way to the bedroom, and heard Billy humming softly. Maybe if he was lucky, he could get Billy to sing for him. Billy sounded incredible at any time, but in the shower it was enough to make Dom's knees soft.

He undressed, all but his shorts, leaving his clothes on the bed next to Billy's. Walked back down the hall to the bathroom and opened the door.

Dom was met by a cloud of steam. Waving its near-tropical density away from his face, he closed the door behind him and headed toward the shower. Pulled off his shorts, tossing them on the floor next to Billy's. Noticed two fresh towels laid out, and smiled. Billy probably had a new soap in there for him, too.

Then Dom saw the mirror. It was one of those large ones that covered nearly the whole wall, and now he understood why it was so damned steamy in there.

In the condensation, in Billy's spiky capital letters, was written:

  L-O-V-E         T-R-U-S-T             N-E-E-D

A-D-O-R-E        G-I-V-E              T-O-U-C-H

T-A-S-T-E      S-O-O-T-H-E      C-L-A-R-I-T-Y

 W-A-N-T        F-U-L-F-I-L          T-R-E-E-S

 F-U-C-K              M-E                    L-O-V-E

Dom read them through again, his heart both constricting and expanding. He wasn't entirely sure that was healthy, but it felt wonderful.

"Trees, Bill?" he asked, for lack of a way to respond, over the sound of the water.

Billy's voice came wafting out with the steam. Smiling, sexy. "I ran out of words. I need to practice this."

"I can think of something else we could practice," Dom said with a slow grin.

"What do you think the last three words are about? You might want to come in before the hot water's gone."

Dom pushed back the curtain, stepped inside, and wrapped himself around a warm, wet, welcoming Billy.


End file.
